Here we go

I think about race all the time. I can't help it. I have to. It starts in the morning, I thank the lord for another day, get up and go down to my six year old son's room and as I stare over him wonder will he be okay today. I gently check on the bump in back of his head that he got in school the other day. I try not to focus on the circumstances, but that too raises questions about race for me. You see he goes to a school where in his class of twenty five kids or more he is one of two black children, both of them boys. The other day four classes were at recess with four teachers supervising. He fell and hit his head and no one saw it so it didn't get reported, and because the boy who pushed him said "sorry" my boy figured he didn't have to tell anyone. I wondered about that. I mean how did he arrive at the conclusion that because he recieves an apology, he should move on and be alright. I don' remember teaching him that, never had cause to. I've taught him to ask for help. I thought, it's a head injury to a six year old, the bump the fall produced was the size of a jawbreaker! There were a few other incidents in school with questionable results that lingered next to this one. Like the time in gym when he accidentally tripped over Bianca (who was white)and was given a time out because she became hysterical and wouldn't accept his apology (as my son explained it). The gym teacher on the other hand didn't remember the incident when I made my injuries, but suddenly remembered asking my son to sit because he had too much energy. I thought it was all very suspicious, but didn't press. The impulse did force contemplation of race as a factor. I know it's always a factor but to what degree would it be a factor today. I haven't had my cup of coffee yet so I can assume my faculties aren't full charged to focus clear enough to speculate reasonably. I kiss my boy as I am always glad to see him, and then I walk the dog before I wake him fully and prepare him for school.